The Trouble of the Riddermark
by spectrespecsinc
Summary: LotR!AU. Ranger!Winchesters, Elf!Castiel, investigating orc attacks cutting off Rohan. Destiel, because who can resist Destiel. This is a T fic now, and a work in progress.
1. Chapter 1

_Author's Note: This first chapter has no Destiel, I'm sorry! This is just to set up the story. I promise the next one will be much more fun to read. The next one will have much more angst and Destiel goodness, as well. As always, I love reviews and if anyone is interested in beta reading, please drop me a line. I'm a bit rusty and could probably use a beta reader. Anyway, enjoy the fic!_

_Word Count: 1,581_

_Rating: K+_

**Past**

"Dean! Take Sam and run! Go!" John, their father, calls out, shouting through the smoke and the flames. Dean clutches his younger brother and sprints out of the small house, now completely overtaken by flames. He glances over his shoulder one last time, trying to block out the echoing screams of his mother and father.

He hardly remembers anything from earlier that night, but he tries. He remembers a man – a wizard, probably – with a tall, ominous black staff and yellow eyes forcing his way into their house, and he remembers his parents demanding answers. He remembers muffled pleading from his parents and then lots of screaming, smoke, and fire.

He runs until he reaches another small cottage, one owned by his father's friend, the Ranger named Bobby Singer. When he reaches the door, he is panting and Sam is crying and he collapses on the front porch, hoping with all of his might that it can finally be over.

Bobby does come to the door, eventually, and his eyes widen in fear at the sight of his friend's children sprawled out, asleep, on his porch. He takes them in and waits for them to wake up.

Dean tells Bobby the whole story the next morning, in between sobs and unanswerable, heart-wrenching questions. Bobby wishes he could say something to Dean's pleas of "bring them back, please Bobby" and "when are Mom and Dad coming back? Soon, right?" (this question was always said with a tinge of resignation, like he knows the answer but he doesn't want it).

After Dean tells the story, Bobby sends him back to the spare room with Sam and contemplates a plan of action. They have no other family he could send them to, and no other appointed guardians. Bobby moves them around a lot – he's worried that the wizard with the black staff and cloak will come back to finish the job, so they never stay in one place for long. They stay in the outskirts of cities, never more than a month in one place.

Dean and Sam grow up in Bobby's care, training to be Rangers, training to be safe, to know who to trust, what to trust, and what to kill, and how to kill it, and what to do when you've killed it, but most of all, training to fight the wizard that killed their family. This final reason remained unspoken between the three, but it was always the reason that Dean and Sam became Rangers.

**Present**

"What'll it be for you tonight?" A young woman with a lilting voice approaches the table. Dean looks up and smiles charmingly, and is about to start flirting when Sam speaks.

"Just two ales, thanks," Sam says quickly, cutting Dean off. Dean glares, sighs, and throws a furtive glance back at the waitress.

"The orcs have reached Helm's Deep. We don't have time for more investigation. Fight first, ask questions later. At this point, Rohan's safety is more important than getting to the bottom of this," Dean said forcefully.

"Dean…" Sam protested.

"No, Sam, we don't have time for days and days of research. We'll get some information out of them after we make sure everyone at Helm's Deep is safe," says Dean and Sam falls silent in agreement. The waitress brings them their drinks and Sam sits quietly, ignoring Dean flirting with the waitress.

"So tomorrow we'll go to Helm's Deep and try to catch up with them, and then we'll get some answers," Sam says decisively, finishing his drink and standing up. Dean nods in agreement, still throwing glances the way of the waitress and they walk out of the half-full tavern, putting up their hoods as they go. They find an inn on the outskirts of town and Sam spends the rest of the evening poring over old scrolls of lore, trying to parallel this incident with anything similar that had happened in the past. Dean sits on the other side of the room, cleaning weapons and occasionally throwing out a sarcastic remark.

"There was an incident a couple years back…a group of orcs tried to cut off a village a week's journey from Minas Tirith," Sam remarks to Dean. He shakes his head.

"I read that one. But it was nomadic orcs doing the cutting off, wasn't it? And they weren't under orders, either," Dean says, referring to the first skirmish they had with the orc tribe. Dean had attempted to interrogate one of the higher-ranking orcs and it was clear that they were under orders. Dean hadn't been able to get much information – all they had been able to gather was that they were under orders from a more powerful being, definitely not an orc. The two speculated that maybe it was a dark wizard – they had heard of dark covens growing in number.

"It's not a dark coven. The orcs are after something," Sam announced. Dean looked up.

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah, definitely. Something like this has happened before, in Lórien. A couple of orc tribes tried to cut them off…it looks like they surrounded them, and they seem to be using that strategy now, too. The orcs, were after some sword I think…anyway, it looks like that's what's happening," Sam finished.

"But…that one we questioned, he was definitely under orders from someone. That doesn't make sense," says Dean.

"It doesn't," Sam concedes, "we'll have to do more research tomorrow," – this draws an exasperated sigh from Dean – "it's late and half a day's journey to Helm's Deep."

Dean nods and extinguishes the candles after Sam chalks up a variety of repelling sigils.

**Present**

"Castiel. It's been too long," Zachariah says, with just a twinge of amusement. Castiel fights back a look of reproach.

"It has been, brother," Castiel says shortly. Castiel has never really been close with Zachariah, especially not since he left the garrison.

"Are you still out saving the humans?" Zachariah asks, this time not trying to mask his disdain, and Castiel is sharply reminded why he left his brothers in the first place. Not for any revenge, simply to see if maybe humans had less of a superiority complex. It turned out that some were worse, and some were better. Nevertheless, Castiel had decided that the humans needed more help than the elves, and stayed busy making sure they were safe from threats, often leaving his home for weeks at a time.

"Yes. There is something happening at the Riddermark," Castiel says vaguely, ignoring that fact that Zachariah probably didn't care. He isn't surprised when Zachariah replied without interest.

"I see," Zachariah said, "well, farewell for now, brother. Good luck on your quest to save the humans," he said the last sentence with a derisive snort. Castiel stood in the same spot for a moment or so, an utterly blank, but not unintelligent, look on his face. After collecting his thoughts, Castiel approached another elf – this time a female, with long red hair and clear blue eyes.

"Anna," he said. He liked Anna more than Zachariah – she, too, leaves Lothlórien often to go help the humans.

"Castiel!" Anna cried. "I missed you, brother. How has it gone?"

"Well. I will probably leave for the Riddermark soon. They seem to have an…orc problem," Castiel smiled, despite the bad news, and Anna smiled back. They talked well into the evening, smiling and laughing, and Castiel almost didn't want to leave Lothlórien the next morning.

"Goodbye, Anna, at least for now," he said, waving a short goodbye to Anna as he started his journey to Rohan. It would be a long journey, he knew, but as he went, he enjoyed the sun and the sky and the scenery flitting by quickly.

Stopping at a tavern for a quick meal before he went to an inn, Castiel asks the waitress whether or not she knew anything about the recent orc attacks.

"No…I'm sorry, I was visiting family in Minas Tirith when the attacks happened. I just returned today," she says.

"Well, thank you anyway, miss," Castiel says, and returns his attention to his meal.

"Um, I'm sorry if this is prying, but do you know the Rangers who passed through here earlier?" she asked. Castiel shook his head.

"I may have come across them in the past. What did they look like?"

"They seemed to be brothers. Kept to themselves, for the most part, and wore black cloaks dusty from travelling. One was rather tall, with brown hair, and the other was shorter but more attractive–" she stopped herself suddenly, blushing. Castiel tilted his head slightly.

"I don't think I've come across them before. Thank you," Castiel thanked her again.

Castiel came to an inn just as dusk began to turn to dark, paid for a room for a week, and spent the rest of the evening researching the events in the Riddermark and occasionally finding a parallel. He knew he would have to ask the villagers about the orcs tomorrow, but it seemed that the orcs had already moved to Helm's Deep. He hoped that he could make it to Helm's Deep in time to assist the small militia there.

He did not expect much to come out of this mission – he expected it to be short and easy and he would come and go and be forgotten, as he had been for the past century. Castiel very much hoped that this particular job would go quickly – he did not much care for dealing with orcs.


	2. Chapter 2

_Author's Note: Hello my lovelies! I'm sorry that it's been so long, but I've been busy. I've been so pleased with the amount of people who have added this story to their alert list, you guys do know how to make a girl feel welcome ^_^ I baked each and every one of you an internet cookie. As always, I love reviews and comments, they're like gluten-free red velvet cake balls. And, as promised, this has lots more Destiel goodness. Enjoy!_

_Word Count: 2,141_

_Rating: T, for boykissing and maybe (?) violence_

Castiel left the inn early that morning, just as the sun was first touching the sky and the villagers were not quite stirring yet. Castiel liked this time the best – it was quiet, it was peaceful, and it made him remember why he had left Lórien in the first place. Everywhere he had been, Castiel found something new to marvel at – he loved the sky, the ocean, the forest, and he loved the humans who inhabited it. Castiel's brothers and sisters, save for Anna, never understood his love for the humans.

Even then, Castiel thought, Anna was different than him. She loved in a wholly different way than he – he felt compassion for the humans, he felt the need to protect them and always kept his distance. He saw no purpose in the inherently human relationships that Anna loved so much. They just seemed troublesome to him, and he saw the way Anna's eyes would start to water when she talked about human men that she had been close with in the past. Castiel would never admit it to himself, but any time Anna told him about a relationship, he felt a twinge of jealousy. Castiel wondered what it would be like to be in a relationship with a human.

He shook his head, clearing those thoughts. He knew that relationships with humans were dangerous and not to be troubled with. Idly, he let his mind wander to the two Rangers who he had heard about the night before. Maybe they'd be in Helm's Deep. Half of Castiel hoped that they would, he thought that maybe having company would help this job go faster. The other half of Castiel hoped that they wouldn't be there.

For the rest of the journey, Castiel lets his minder wander, making sure not to think about the Rangers or the job. He finally arrives at Helm's Deep just as twilight is falling, and there doesn't seem to be any sign of an orc attack. Perhaps they're waiting for something, Castiel thinks. He uses the time to go ask the inhabitants if they know anything, and the first two people don't seem to know much, only rumors that have been floating around of an evil wizard, one with yellow eyes and a cloak black as night. The third man, however, has more to say.

"Hey, ain't you with those Rangers just passed by?" The man asks, turning bloodshot eyes up to Castiel's face. He decides it is best to lie.

"Yes, I do. We were separated. Can you tell me where they went?" The man lowers his head back to his drink. Castiel feels a surge of pity for the man.

"They wen' to the inn, said they got all they needed," The man snorts. "Think they're gonna save us all, those two do."

Castiel suddenly realizes why the man is so distraught. The orcs must have taken someone important to him.

"I'm very sorry for your loss. We will catch whoever is responsible for this," Castiel comforts, and bows his head slightly as he walks out of the smoky tavern. He turns the corner and sees two men, one very tall and one with short, light brown hair, both wearing dusty travelling cloaks. He recognizes them as Rangers and approaches.

"Hello. I assume that you two are the Rangers who have been investigating the orc attacks?" The two men seem to be startled, but it is the taller one who speaks first.

"Uh, yeah, we are. I'm Sam, this is Dean, and who are you?"

"I am Castiel. I come from Lothlórien," he says simply, and looked at the two men. When his eyes met Dean's, they stared at each other for time that Castiel knew wasn't acceptable between two humans meeting for the first time, but he couldn't help himself. It seemed that Dean was well aware that they were staring at each other, too, because he begins to flush red. He and Dean stared until Sam coughed uncomfortably and attempted to fill the silence.

"Well, um, what do you want to do about this…I mean, if you've got it covered we could just –"

"Nah, Sammy, we'll stay and help, there are a lot of those guys out there," Dean says quickly, cutting him off. Castiel felt oddly relieved that this Ranger wanted him around. Sam just stared at Dean as Castiel met his eyes again. Sam just coughed and was suddenly extremely interested in the hem of his cloak. Finally tearing his eyes away, Castiel nodded politely at Sam.

"I should go now," Castiel says, and turns and leaves, thoughts of Dean's green eyes still on his mind. From behind him, he can hear Sam say "what the _fuck_," to Dean. Dean replies with a heated "shut _up_, he can still hear you". Dean's embarrassment makes Castiel smile a little, and he quickly clears his head of any thoughts relating to Dean and his mesmerizing green eyes.

"Seriously, Dean, what the hell?" Sam says to Dean when they get back to their room at the inn. Dean shrugs.

"I don't know, we could use his help," Dean answers simply. Sam bitchfaces and sighs.

"Seriously, you guys stared at each other for at least one full minute. _What the hell,_" Dean just shrugs again. Sam bitchfaces.

"If you try to hit on him, ever…" Sam trails off menacingly.

"What? No! Sam, he's an elf. A _male_ elf!"

"Yeah, like that's ever mattered to you before. I don't care what you do, just as long as we get this hunt done. Don't get distracted," Sam warns and gets into bed. Dean splutters indignantly for a couple minutes, glaring at Sam's turned back, before following suit.

Castiel is shaken awake by the chaotic din of swords clashing and people yelling. He leaps out of bed, grabbing his bow and quiver of arrows as he runs down the uneven stone steps two at a time. He gets to the entrance of Helm's Deep just in time to see Sam and Dean arrive as well, swords already glinting menacingly and after a second, both of the swords have the same sinister red coat over them. Castiel turns his attention to the battle raging in front of him – there were warriors from Helm's Deep already fighting the orcs and they seemed to be losing ground quickly. He shoots down a few orcs that seem to be getting too close to the front lines, and jumps into the fray, slicing blindly with his sword, and reveling in the sickening sound of bones breaking and skin tearing.

After what seems like an endless amount of time cutting through orcs, Castiel looks up to make sure that the two Rangers he had met earlier were safe. Sam seemed to be fine, but where was Dean? Castiel panics a bit more than may be necessary for somebody he just met, but he doesn't notice. Stopping only to wipe blood (human or orc, Castiel couldn't tell) off of his forehead, he impales another orc or two before reaching Sam.

"What happened?" Castiel asks before sheathing his sword and pulling out his bow in one fluid movement.

"Orcs...surprise attack I guess…saw you come in…" Sam pants, clearly exhausted. Castiel nods.

"Where is Dean?" Sam's head whips around so quickly Castiel swears that his neck breaks a little bit.

"Shit," Sam curses. Castiel looks frantically for the Ranger, and finally sees him struggling to stay alive amidst a pack of orcs. He slips and falls and Castiel and Sam both bolt for the edge of the fight, where Dean is falling. Sam gets caught by orcs and has to whirl around and hack at them desperately, but Castiel continues to run until he reaches the orcs that surround Dean. Taking one last look at the battle, he realizes that the orcs surrounding he and Dean are the last of them, save for one Sam seems to be yelling at.

"Cas!" Dean yells, and Castiel, on instinct, grabs his upper arm as tight as he can, and pulls him out of the fray. He practically throws him backwards, and slices through the remaining orcs.

"Dean," Castiel says worriedly, "are you hurt?"

"Nah, m'fine, but I think you left a bruise," Dean says, gingerly touching the spot where Castiel pulled him from the battle.

"My apologies,"

"Don't apologize," Dean grunts and heaves himself up. Sam slices the head off of the orc and runs over.

"Dean! You okay?"

"Fine, Sammy. What did you find out?" Sam starts to speak but then notices the rest of the Helm's Deep guard running in.

"Maybe we should go back to the room," he says, and Dean and Castiel nod. They follow Sam back to the grimy room and Dean and Sam collapse on their respective beds, while Castiel stands, looking a bit awkward.

"So what did you find out?" Castiel asks Sam and he scrubs his eyes and throws his sword to the side.

"They aren't working for a coven. I don't know, I've never heard of this happening before, but I think they're working for a single wizard. The wizard has yellow eyes and a black cloak, same as what the civilians told us," Castiel tilts his head slightly to the side, and Dean stares at Castiel.

"Perhaps we should start questioning wizards in the area, to see if they know of any dark wizards fitting that description," Castiel suggests.

"Yeah, sounds like a plan. Right now though, I'm sleeping. I'm exhausted," Sam says, sighing, and rolls over before anyone could respond.

"So…tomorrow, do you want to help us question?" Dean asks, sitting up and clearing his throat.

"Yes. I imagine working together would be much more beneficial," Castiel replies, trying to ignore the fact that Dean was sitting so close to him and that his upper arm is touching Dean's, and all he has to do to kiss him is to turn his head slightly to the left.

"Yeah…" Dean looks a bit like he's thinking the same thing. The conversation trailed off and they sat in silence for a while.

"You called me Cas back there," he states simply.

"Sorry," is the reply he gets from Dean.

"No, I don't mind it. Nobody has ever given me a nickname before,"

"You're kidding!" Dean says incredulously and turns his head to face Castiel. Castiel realizes how green his eyes are at the same moment that Dean realizes how blue Castiel's are.

"I've never needed one, but I rather like 'Cas'," Castiel says quietly, staring at Dean. Dean stares back and slowly leans forward. Castiel stays very still, nervous and confused as to what to do. He's very distracted by the color of Dean's eyes and the shape of his lips and the way that his face is so distractingly attractive and _right there_, but he's not sure what to do. So Dean decides what to do for him and closes the distance between them and presses his lips to Castiel's and Castiel is shocked but so glad that Dean did that and his hands move up to tangle in his hair and Dean reacts by kissing back, hard and Castiel melts but it's over much too soon when Dean pulls back with a nervous, scared look on his face.

"Uh," he says lamely.

"I rather liked that," Castiel says, not sure what else to say.

"Uh, is this going to make things weird?" Dean asks, still looking scared.

"No, I don't see why it should," Castiel replies.

"Well, uh, I guess I should sleep now…" Dean says, and Castiel nods, not quite knowing how to feel.

"I suppose I'll see you tomorrow, Dean," Castiel says, shutting the door behind him and trying to figure out why he's so disappointed but elated that this wonderfully confusing man kissed him. That night, before he sleeps, Castiel thinks about Dean's green eyes and the way that his lips feel and how easy it is to get his fingers tangled in his hair. Directly after he thinks that, he reminds himself that he is an elf and elves do not find humans attractive, so these feelings for Dean continue to confuse him endlessly.

Castiel still dreams of kissing Dean.

Dean lies awake, silently cursing himself. He told Sam that he wouldn't pull this shit. And then what does he do? Go and pull that shit. It was just…Cas was so close to him. And that goddamn head tilt that he does is so fucking hot (Dean really thinks that it's cute, but he won't admit that to himself), and his eyes are so blue, and Cas was just…_there_. There and innocent and explaining that he had never been given a nickname and Dean couldn't help himself.

Dean dreams of kissing Cas, but he won't admit that to himself, either.


End file.
